


Smash Williams and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamgirl

by Devilc



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: Character of Color, Chromatic Character, F/M, Laundrylist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-11
Updated: 2010-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-06 04:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/pseuds/Devilc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waverly is technicolor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smash Williams and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamgirl

**Author's Note:**

> For FNL Laundrylist Challenge #6, prompt #1  "Smash is avoiding Crazy Waverly's phone calls, and obviously, the teenage boys see nothing wrong with this. Is he going to get the sense beat into him by anyone? Is anyone even going to notice? Or will Smash man up himself and talk to her because like Street so clearly pointed out. 'Everyone in this town's got problems'."
> 
> (And I hope I got Smash's voice right. For me, compared to him, Riggins is a piece of cake.)

After dropping Jason off, and after he and Matt helped Tim get his truck push-started, Smash drove home, gulped down three Tylenol and fell into bed. It wasn't like he was some sort of straight-edger, not by a long shot, but no way in hell was he ever going to try and keep pace with Riggs where booze was involved again. (And Riggins, damn his cracker ass, wasn't even hungover come morning. Talk about adding insult to injury.)

 

He woke up, feeling much better, late in the afternoon. He scrambled some eggs, poured a glass of OJ, and checked his phone.

 

No new messages from Waverly.

 

(Shit.)

 

He showered, dressed, got in the car and drove over.

 

Yeah, she was _pissed _.

 

(And she had every right to be.)

 

"Baby, I'm a man, and you know how that is." Smash shrugged, acting a hell of a lot more flip than he felt.

 

Wrong move.

 

"Don't you 'baby' me. A man is _strong _, Brian " Oh yeah, Waverly was beyond pissed if she was calling him by his given name. "And you "

 

"I acted like a jerk. Yeah, I know." Smash cleared his throat. "Look, can we talk? I mean, really talk? Because I've got some things I need to say to you, too."

 

She fixed him with a downright frosty look.

 

"Aww, c'mon, Wavey, we can't let it end like this." He used his most cajoling smile  the one that he normally reserved only for his momma when he had done something to piss her off.

 

Waverly rolled her eyes and huffed "Fine. Let me get my purse."

 

~oo(0)oo~

 

"The football field?" She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

 

"Yeah, 'cause I had a ... revelation here last night."

 

Waverly gave him a small, tight, smile  but it _was _ a smile  and Smash took that as a good sign. "Going biblical on me now? Revelation, what, with angels and trumpets and all that?"

 

Smash laughed. "Uh, no, more like beer and football and horsing around with the guys."

 

"So lay it on me, what was your revelation?"

 

(Okay, looked like he'd spoke too soon about her giving a smile.)

 

"Damn, Wavey, your tone could curdle milk, but ... so here's how it is. So, me and Matt and Riggs and Street, we were hanging here and talking, 'bout girl problems among other"

 

"Oh, so is that what I am to you now, Brian, your 'girl problem'?"

 

"Yeah, but you got third."

 

"What?!" She looked like she might turn and bolt at any moment.

 

"You finished behind the kind of problems Riggs and Street got," Smash said, grinning a bit. "Yeah, 'cause I said you was bi-polar "

 

"I'm not quite happy with you sharing that with _them_," Waverly hissed, fists clenched, eyes glassy with rage.

 

"Baby, just hear me out. Just, just " Smash took one of her hands in his, "And Matt said, 'What's bi-polar mean', and before I could say anything else, Street says, 'It just means she's got issues, just like everybody else in Dillon.' And I woke up this morning and  he was right. It's just issues, Wavey, and, well, there's others with bigger issues, y'know?

 

"So, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry, Waverly, but I was _so _ scared. You saw it yourself. So, go ahead, and yell at me now, 'cause I deserve it. Let it out and I'll listen and not interrupt."

 

Smash braced himself for the onslaught.

 

It didn't come quite the way he thought. In a small, quavery voice, Waverly said, "It hurt me, Brian. I was so scared. Scared that you wanted nothing more to do with me, that you were just going to drop me like a hot rock, and " She screwed her eyes shut and pulled in a breath, "and now I'm scared at what I'm going to be hearing in school, now that you told _them _ what the problem is "

 

Smash trailed a hand down her cheek, "Baby, you got no worries about that. 'Cause trust me, Riggs so got you beat. _So _ got you beat " Smash couldn't contain his snicker at the memory.

 

She looked at him, curious.

 

"Naw, I ain't telling, 'cause what was said on this field, it's staying on this field, you gotta trust me on that."

 

Pause.

 

She squeezed his hand. "Okay."

 

Smash pulled her hand up and planted a kiss on each one of her knuckles, making her smile inspite of herself. "But, baby, I've gotta ask you one thing. Why'd you go off your meds?"

 

She pulled her hand out of his and turned away, sighing.

 

"Wavey?"

 

She turned back to him with an even heavier sigh. "They've got side effects, Smash."

 

(Smash! He was back to Smash again. Yes!!)

 

He shrugged. "Such as?"

 

"They make my mouth dry, which isn't so good for playing trumpet."

 

"And?"

 

Waverly cast her eyes down for several heartbeats. "They make me feel beige," she mumbled. Flicking her eyes back up to meet his, she continued, "I don't have any lows, but I don't have any highs, either. I just ... I was so bland and ... just beige and boring. I don't know how else to describe it."

 

Smash pulled her into a bear hug. "Oh, baby, you was never beige," he said, lips ghosting over her forehead.

 

"Really?"

 

"Not beige at all. Technicolor all the way."

 

And then he kissed her.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note pt.2 -- Mental Health issues live at home for me. I have a good friend who is schizoaffecive and struggled for years to get a proper diagnosis as well as medicine that worked for her. ("I felt beige" is why she stopped taking them.) My brother is also clinically depressed and suffers from extreme anti-social anxieties as well. Severe side effects (dry mouth and sexual dysfunction) caused him to go off his medications, with the result that he ended up spending 96 hours in the county psychward a few years ago. Fortunately, he's now on a medication with very few side effects and is much, much happier now.


End file.
